


see the sunlight in her soul

by robin_hoods



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Dates, POV Outsider, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_hoods/pseuds/robin_hoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon follows her outside with the casual saunter of someone who obviously doesn't really care, and Sansa rolls her eyes. “So, what's this about?” He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, looking every bit like the righteous prick that she grew up with.</p><p>"I think you know.” Sansa crosses her own arms, unwilling to be cowed by his remarks. “Let's see, do the words Jeyne, dinner and Saturday ring a bell? Oh, and let's not forget 'date'.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	see the sunlight in her soul

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the kink meme. _Another_ fic for Theon week -- yay! 
> 
> Title from U2's _Luminous Times (Hold On to Love)_.

“Sansa,” Jeyne whispers one night, while she lies on the spare mattress besides Sansa's bed on the floor. She's only just closed her eyes, feeling herself slip away into sleep, when Jeyne's voice wakes her once more.

“What is it?” she asks, feeling wide awake once more.

“Well,” Jeyne says, and Sansa peers over the edge of her bed to look at her friend, who is surprisingly hesitant. “Remember when you and... and Joffrey split up, and you said you didn't want to date any boys anymore? But then you met Willas Tyrell, and--”

“Jeyne,” she interrupts, “are you dating someone?”

If she could see right now, Sansa is sure she'd find her best friend blushing. “I didn't mean to,” Jeyne blurts, “but he asked, and I-- I didn't want to say no.”

“So, who is it?” Sansa asks, curiousity overcoming the indignity that Jeyne broke the promise the two of them made. “Is it someone I know?”

“Yes,” Jeyne admits.

“Do I know him well?” she asks. Mentally, she's already compiling a list of who Jeyne could be dating. Maybe it's Hot Pie, that boy who makes the most delicious... well, pie, or maybe it's Garlan, Willas' brother, who is quite a looker himself, or maybe Micah, the butcher's boy Arya managed to befriend years ago, or maybe Pyp, one of Jon's geeky friends. Although, now that she thinks about it, Sansa isn't sure if Jeyne even knows any of Jon's friends, even Samwell with whom he seems to be attached to the hip.

It dawns on her maybe two seconds before Jeyne says, “It's Theon.”

Theon Greyjoy isn't close to any of the boys she and Jeyne used to giggle over. Sure, he is handsome – in a rugged bad boy kind of way – but he has a new girlfriend every other week. What if Jeyne is just another name added to his list of conquests?

“But Jeyne,” she says, “won't Theon be...”

“Be what?” she asks. “He's actually really nice.” Sansa is certain that if she hadn't been blushing before, she certainly is now. “He's going to take me out for dinner Saturday, you know.” She sighs dreamily. “It'll be perfect.”

And, you know, she and Jeyne have discussed Theon before (“I wonder what he's like in bed.” “Jeyne!” “What? He has to be good, if so many girls want to.” “But how do they know if he's good if he only sleeps with them once?” “Word of mouth?” Jeyne had offered, and they'd dissolved into a fit of giggles that they tried to muffle into their pillows.), but it had never been very serious.

“Are you... sure?” Sansa asks, imagining the rude and abrasive Theon she knows. It makes her wonder if they are even talking about the same person. Theon often leers at her at inappropriate moments; he puts his feet up on the coffee table when he thinks no one is looking – not to mention his awful jokes (that are also often disgusting). Honestly, Jeyne deserves better than that.

“Do you think he might kiss me?” Jeyne suddenly asks, and Sansa imagines he would. And maybe more, after which he'll drop her like a brick into the ocean.

Sansa knows what a broken heart feels like, and it's the last thing that she wants Jeyne to experience. At this point, even Beric Dondarrion is a better match than Theon Greyjoy, and he has to be at least twice their age, if not more.

While Jeyne drifts off next to her, Sansa finds herself unable to fall asleep, imagining one doom scenario after the other. Eventually she does, with the image of an upset Jeyne pressed against her closed eyelids.

The next morning, Sansa enters the kitchen with Jeyne in tow, and Theon is sitting at the kitchen table, eating their cereal and drinking their milk. “Morning, Jeyne,” he says, “Sansa.”

“Hi Theon,” Jeyne replies before Sansa can ask if her parents know he's here (and before he can say that his shoes are in the hall, of course they know he's here).

Jeyne and Theon keep stealing glances at each other, until Jeyne accidentally topples over her glass of milk. They both disappear underneath the table to pick up shards of glass and Sansa sighs, her chin resting on her palm while milk drips into a large puddle on the floor. Any moment now, they will both reach for the same shard and accidentally touch each other's hand and – she's probably reading too much into it. If they even did happen to do that, Jeyne would blush, and Theon would grin, which would make Jeyne blush even more. It would be a vicious, not to mention unromantic, cycle.

Her plate jumps up slightly from the table when someone bumps their head. “Ow!” she hears Jeyne say first, and then Theon asks, “Are you okay?”

On second thought, maybe there is some potential after all.

After Jeyne's gone home, Sansa goes upstairs and waits for a second or two in front of Robb's room, where she can hear him and best friend laughing over some kind of joke that no doubt is only funny to boys. Firmly, she knocks, and waits until Robb's invited her in to turn the knob and step inside. “Can I talk to you?” she asks in all seriousness, and Robb blinks.

“Sure,” he says and stands up from his desk chair.

“I didn't mean you,” Sansa replies, and pointedly looks at Theon who has been lying spread out on Robb's comforter all this time. He raises an eyebrow at her while Robb sits down again, disappointed.

Theon follows her outside with the casual saunter of someone who obviously doesn't really care, and Sansa rolls her eyes. “So, what's this about?” He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, looking every bit like the righteous prick that she grew up with.

“I think you know.” Sansa crosses her own arms, unwilling to be cowed by his remarks. “Let's see, do the words Jeyne, dinner and Saturday ring a bell? Oh, and let's not forget 'date'.”

“Oh. That. Yeah, I'm taking Jeyne out. Is that a problem?”

“A problem? Oh, no. Not if after this date, there will be another, and another. Especially not if you won't hurt her feelings. I can assure you, there definitely will be a problem if you do.”

Theon looks a little too stunned to reply, even when Robb opens his bedroom door to ask if they're all right.

“Absolutely fine,” Sansa airily says, opens the door to her own bedroom, and slams it shut. She'd better not be hearing any complaints from Jeyne, because if she does... She'll make sure Theon Greyjoy never sets foot in their house again.

On Saturday, Jeyne excitedly calls her about that night. “I just don't know what to wear. Don't you think a dress is too fancy? Or do you think Theon would like that?”

“Should I come over and help you pick something out?” Sansa offers, when she remembers that Jeyne had done that exact thing when she had fretted about her dates with Joffrey, who always seemed to be dissatisfied with whatever she picked, no matter how pretty it was.

They stand in front of Jeyne's closet for quite some time, while Jeyne tries on several different pieces and Sansa gives her opinion. “I'm a bit nervous,” Jeyne admits, slowly twirling the ribbon from her dress around her finger.

“You'll be fine,” Sansa assures her. “When you get home, you can tell me all about it.” She doesn't say she's nervous as well, because that doesn't help Jeyne in the slightest. The doorbell rings, and Jeyne rushes herself into the bathroom, “He can't be here! I'm not done yet!”

Sansa stumbles down on the rickety stairs, and goes to open the door – if it's up to Jeyne, he might be there for another fifteen minutes. She doesn't want to do that to him, even if she doesn't like him.

“Hi!” he says, although his expression slightly drops when he notices that it's Sansa opening the door, and not Jeyne. He's brought flowers, and he actually looks presentable, for a change, wearing dress pants, his shirt is neatly tucked in and an actual tie around his neck. “Where's Jeyne?”

“Upstairs,” she says, “come here, your tie is all crooked.” The arm holding up the flowers drops down, and he leans forward so she can fix it.

“How do you even know how to tie a tie?” he asks, casting his eyes upwards to the ceiling while she finished up.

“I have four brothers, and none them even know how to make a proper Windsor. There,” she pats his chest, “all done.”

He steps back, just as they hear Jeyne rushing downstairs. “Hi,” she says rather breathlessly.

“Hi,” he says, and smiles.

Sansa suddenly feels like she's intruding on a very private moment, even when Jeyne asks “Are those for me?” and disappears into the kitchen to put the flowers into a vase, all the while smiling widely.

“She not just into you,” Sansa realises. “You like her as well – _really_ like her. Don't you?”

“Maybe,” he says, but he's blushing, and the uneasy feeling she's had all afternoon is finally starting to dissipate.

“Don't do anything stupid,” she advises.

“Ready to go?” Jeyne asks and shrugs into her coat.

“Definitely,” Theon replies.

Sansa is the last one to step outside, and closes the door behind her. When she looks up, Theon and Jeyne are already walking towards his car, and she smiles to herself when she sees their joined hands.


End file.
